Q's Predicament
by NephilimEQ
Summary: Q ends up on the Enterprise, yet again, but this time under *very* different circumstances. At first, he resents it...but can even the almighty Q have a change of heart? PLEASE READ & REVIEW!
1. Quanderies

**Chapter 1 - Quandaries**

* * *

He stood on the bridge of the Enterprise, ignoring the stares in his direction, all of them malicious.

"Please, Jean Luc…give some credit where credit is due. You may hate me, loathe me, _despise_ me…but somewhere, deep, _deep_ down, you miss me when I'm not around. Am I right?"

The steely glare sent in his direction seemed to say otherwise, but he dutifully ignored it, a smug grin appearing on his features. Of course, it was almost always there, as he knew that he always had the upper hand in these situations, no matter how much the captain hated to admit it.

"Q, I asked you to leave the bridge immediately!"

"Ohhh, temper, temper, mon capitain…you don't want to set a bad example for your crew, now do you? Manners are always so important, and ordering someone around in a tone like that will _not_ win you any friends." His tone was somewhat mocking, but he couldn't help it. A smirk stretched across his handsome features, and he took pleasure in the thought of how much he was annoying them. It truly _was_ his only joy in life.

Riker glared at the immortal. "Like you'd care about having friends? I'd be in shock to find if you had any!"

For once in his extremely long life, Q found himself at a loss for words. Not wanting to admit that he'd been thrown by the first mate's barbed comment, he shrugged, acting as though the words rolled off of him, not affecting him in the slightest.

"Fine…you want me off the bridge? Done!"

With a snap of his fingers, he was gone. He arrived in 10-Forward, but something was wrong. Oh great…he was in trouble now. It looked as though someone had stopped time…and that was only possible if someone from the Continuum was interfering. He looked up to see a member of the Continuum walking towards him in human form, having materialized out of thin air as was the Continuum members' usual purview.

"Q…it seems we have something of a problem." His tone was serious, and he gave him a stern look, and that was when Q realized that something was going on. Something that was going to involve him, and he had a vague idea that he wasn't going to like it.

"And that problem would be…?"

He merely gave him a look, and Q turned his head away. He approached an empty table and sat down, gesturing for Q to sit opposite him. He stood, staring, but then he was given the same look. Oh great, he thought to himself. Some things never change. He slid into the chair, sitting in his usual position: one leg crossed over the other, one arm on his knee and the other arm sliding effortlessly along the back of the chair.

The head of the Continuum began to speak. "It seems that we are starting to create…how would the humans put it? Oh, yes…liaisons between the Continuum and the races that we regularly interact with. And you've been selected as being one of them…"

He let the words float for a moment, and then comprehension dawned. "You mean to say…?"

He nodded. "Yes. _You_ are our human liaison."

There was silence. It was a pregnant silence, filled with loathing on Q's part as he glared at the man across the table. His eyes were filled disdain, but resignation as well. He knew that there was no way out of this. He had no say in this decision. He continued to glare, but the man ignored him.

Q sent him a scathing look.

"This is punishment, isn't it? Don't deny it…I _know_ that you looked down on my little stunt that I pulled with the Deveron, but this is beyond punishment! This is torture!"

The man glared back at Q, not bothering to respond to the barb, even though the answer was obvious in his expression. Yes, it was a punishment. One that the Continuum obviously felt he deserved, though he felt nothing but resentment.

"Being our liaison, you must not use your powers to interfere in _any_ possible way. You are to interact with them by being as human as you possibly can, while still retaining your abilities. You may use them on your own time, in your own personal space…but no _interference_. We'll be watching you, Q. No games…"

With that parting shot, he snapped his fingers, and was gone.

Q was suddenly was at the bar in 10-Forward, no longer at the table, and he decided to take part in the human ritual of drinking alcoholic substance to make one numb to the effects of emotion. Of course, he _could_ allow the drink to have an effect on him, but instead decided to opt for enjoying the taste alone.

He didn't think that the Enterprise was prepared to deal with a drunk Q.

He snapped his fingers, a bottle of Earth wine appearing in front of him, a Burgundy. As he took the time to actually pour himself a glass, he noticed Guinan at the other end of the bar, sending a pointed stare his way. He deliberately ignored it. She wasn't worth the hassle, and he had better things to do than to rehash old rivalries. They were merely trivial things, and he was secretly getting sick and tired of them. As he thought about it, he came to a sudden realization.

That was all he had left, wasn't it? Rivalries.

He didn't know how many species that hated him, and how many personal vendettas people, or others alike, held against him. Though he hated to admit it, he enjoyed Picard's company simply because he was the only one that seemed to see right through him.

At that depressing thought, he took a deep drink, wishing he had his much younger metabolism…his _human_ metabolism. Not that he'd ever tell _them_, but that was how he'd started out…pretty much, at least. He hadn't been born on Earth, oh no, but he'd lived very similarly and at times, though not very often, he missed it.

Suddenly, he realized what he was thinking. "What the hell am I doing?"

The words were mostly said to himself, but several heads turned in his direction and he actually felt…dare he think it…embarrassed. He dropped his forehead to his hands, briefly thinking about how enjoyable human form was compared to other life forms that he'd been. They really were geniusly constructed, and out of all the life forms that he'd seen, one of the more attractive ones. He knew that his form was pleasing to look at, but he'd never…well…drawn anyone's attention.

Maybe that was his problem. Maybe, just as Riker had implied, he was lonely because he didn't have any friends.

Seeing that his thoughts were becoming maudlin once more, he shook his head. "No, no. This is ridiculous! I am Q. If I want friends, I can simply wish them into existence!"

He lifted his left hand, turning on his stool, fingers poised to snap…and he paused. Did he really want to? Would it really be the same? Oh, who was he kidding, what did he care? He didn't care if things were real or not, as long as they achieved the desired result!...right? And then he remembered. He was being watched.

"What are you planning on doing now? Sending an asteroid on a collision course with the Enterprise?"

He swiveled back to the bar to see Guinan staring at him, looking pointedly at his raised hand. Q quickly dropped his hand, instead wrapping it around the bottle and pouring himself another glass.

"Hello to you too, old…friend."

He hesitated on the word, not sure if it was the wisest thing to say, but decided that it made no difference in the end. She gave him a look, raising an eyebrow at his use of the word, but said nothing. He was grateful for the silence, glad that she'd opted from retaliating.

As he sipped his wine, he gave a sideways glance down the bar, curious as to what kind of people frequented the so-called "social hub" of the ship. He found nothing unique. In fact, all of them seemed bland and mind-numbingly boring. He noticed Guinan following his stare and he huffed in annoyance, trying not to react but failing miserably. The woman hadn't changed in a hundred years, and he was getting sick and tired of it.

"_What_ do you _want_?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. I'm just wondering when the show's gonna start. You know…the fireworks, the magic tricks…the imminent _doom_."

He glared in response. "Though it may be hard to comprehend with that _limited_ mind of yours, I am _not_ always planning something. Sometimes I just like to…how do the humans put it? Oh yes…sit back and enjoy the show."

She gave him another look. "The show?"

He nodded and repressed a bout of laughter that wanted to surface, instead simply snorting in derision.

"Yes. The _show_. You know, that ridiculous and humorous little thing that the human species calls living? It's rather amusing, actually, to see how they scramble about, attempting to try and find some sort of _meaning_ to their lives, when it always ends the same: with a quick drop and a short stop."

Guinan gave him yet another look, but he didn't respond, realizing that if he kept on responding, she just might think that she was actually getting to him.

Without a second thought, he flashed himself across the room, sitting in the chair that was furthest away from the bar area. Placing the wine onto the table, he tightened his hand slightly on the fluted glass in his hand. He looked down at it, absentmindedly swirling the contents, wondering why he didn't want to leave the starship. It almost seemed as though the answer was hidden in the red liquid, deftly and easily hiding from him in the molecules of alcohol that he'd conjured. It was truly maddening.

As he sat there, he slowly became aware of two things: one, that he'd picked the one part of 10-Forward that allowed him to see everyone in the room without anyone even noticing that he was staring, and two…that someone was headed towards his table.

She was short, but not exactly petite. Strong, yes, that was the word. She had rather plain dark brown hair and hazel eyes. Nothing about her made her stick out in any particular way, and yet she was headed towards _his_ table. Q thought for a moment, wondering whether or not he should just leave…but he decided to wait. Maybe he could have some fun. Play a game with someone _else_ on the Enterprise for a change.

He leaned back a bit in his chair as he watched her sit herself down without even asking if she could. He observed for a moment that she wore a science officer's uniform; the color looked good on no one, and nothing was different in this particular case.

Q fixed her with a look that he'd had perfected for several centuries. It was one that said "_stay away"_ in all capitals, in neon red colors…but the only reaction he received was a tired glance and a brief roll of her eyes.

He held back to urge to change her into something else, as was his natural instinct in such cases of being deliberately ignored, but he refrained, although his finger twitched slightly. He waited in silence, making sure that he was not the first one to speak. He preferred his prey to come to him, not the other way around. It was more amusing, and it was so much easier to manipulate them that way. The silence stretched between them and he almost drummed his fingers on the table in agitation, but held back.

He silently vowed that he would not be the one to break the silence. She would have to do that herself.

"So…" Yes! She'd spoken first. "…You're Q, right?"

He gave a small nod, acknowledging her. "Yes, I am. And you are?"

"Tired," was all she said, sending him a pointed look. "And you're in my place, Q."

He gave her a surprised look, but decided to let her tone go by unpunished and instead reverted to having some semblance of charm. "Well, so sorry to have interrupted your usual evening schedule, Miss…?"

Q left it open ended, arching an eyebrow in her direction, obviously waiting for the young woman to give her name.

She gave him a look that was akin to shock, but the words that came out were slightly mocking. "Manners? Wow…from what I've heard, that was the last thing that I expected from you. You're supposed to be arrogant, rude, and absolutely insufferable."

She ended her comments with an arched eyebrow in his direction, while mirroring his own position by leaning back in her chair. He gave her another look, this time one of wry amusement at her forward attitude. It was hard to believe she was human…she acted too much like some people that he knew from the Continuum.

He smirked, repeating his question, a tone of exasperation in his voice, as well as sarcasm dripping along its edges.

"Yes, well, can we move on from that misconception and move to the much more _fascinating_ subject that is you. You have not answered my question, you impudent mortal. I _asked_ you who you were, therefore you should respond with your name, if you are at all capable of remembering, which I highly doubt, by the way, with your _infinitesimally_ small cerebral space."

Instead of taking offense and walking away in a huff, she merely rolled her eyes at him again, leaning forward, putting her elbows on the table and placing her chin on her now clasped hands. He now realized that her attitude was becoming quite disconcerting. He waited…and so did she. Finally, placing an arm on the table, he leaned forward as well, getting close enough to encroach on her personal space…one_ more_ outdated idea of the human species.

He lifted an eyebrow, inviting her to answer. Her grin turned to a soft smile, though with a slightly worn edge.

"My name's Karen."

With that, she stood and walked away from the table, and he, for some unknown reason, was unable to tear his eyes away as she did. There was something about her…he couldn't quite place his finger on it. He just knew that there was _some_thing about her.

* * *

**Part 1/10**


	2. Queries

**Chapter 2 - Queries**

* * *

He couldn't believe that he was doing this…he just couldn't believe it. But here he was, standing in front of the captain of the Enterprise…asking _permission_ to stay aboard the ship. Oh, if it had been any other member of the Continuum, sure, that could be believed. But Q? Q actually asking for permission from a mere captain, when he could merely have just whisked away to wherever his heart desired? What was this plane of existence coming to?

It was obvious from the look on Picard's face that he didn't believe what he was hearing. He looked at the entity in front of him almost with a look of terror at the prospect.

"You wish to…_remain_ on board the Enterprise? As a…guest?"

Q lowered his head in abject shame at the humiliation he was putting himself through, but then again, the Continuum had _not_ been pleased with his most recent actions. Only two months ago he had changed an entire species so that they could only mate with those of the same sex…and it seemed that the Continuum had no sense of humor.

He lifted his eyes and tried to explain his situation without divulging details that would prevent him from staying.

"You see, Jean Luc, I _could_ have just stayed on the Enterprise without your knowledge, easily disguising myself as one of your officers or one of any number of random passengers on your precious _ship _without any one of your crew being any the wiser, however…"

His voice trailed, but Picard's glare was icy. "However…?"

Q absentmindedly shifted his shoulders, showing obvious discomfort in the information that he was divulging.

"Let's just say that…the Continuum feels that it's in my own best interest to…to lay low, and keep to myself."

Picard continued to glare, obviously knowing that there was more going on than Q wanted to admit. "What's the _real_ problem Q?"

He gave in, his shoulders dropping, all sense of decorum out the window.

"Alright, alright…the Continuum is holding me in contempt at the moment for some…_actions_ that I might have taken that they don't necessarily _agree_ with. Let me just say they have no sense of humor, much like your android. Because of this, they're monitoring my every move. Any action on my part that could be even _remotely_ construed as interfering or…meddling, and they will take away my powers for good this time and _leave_ me as a human. Permanently. No second chances, no take backs."

Q had been filled in on this snippet of information only a few minutes earlier by another member of the Continuum. Apparently, they felt as though it were necessary. He honestly couldn't see the reason why, but at the back of his mind the threat lingered.

Picard looked wary, but Q continued. "But…they are giving me _full_ human abilities, even though I protested, in order to try and…oh, how did they put it? Oh yes…teach me a lesson. I will retain my basic powers…teleportation, conjuring, immortality…but I will feel the full range of human emotion and be subjected to actual pain. A feeling I can guarantee that I do _not_ want to experience again."

The captain stared at the man before him who had been his enemy for who knew how long. Q watched the struggle of emotions play across the captain's face, and inwardly grinned. One of the perks about humans was that they were so easy to read. Even people who were said to be unreadable, were a cinch. All of those little micro-expressions that flitted through their muscles that couldn't be controlled were like the open pages of picture book. After a few seconds of watching Picard, he knew he was in.

Picard let out a long sigh, one that seemed full of apprehension. "Alright. I'll arrange for someone to take you to your quarters…if you insist on staying on the Enterprise, you will _walk_ from place to place, is that understood?"

Q sighed, leaning against the table. "Fine…agreed."

"Oh, and one other thing…"

The immortal being glanced up, wondering what other ridiculous stipulation he would place this time.

"You will wear civilian clothes at all times."

* * *

Q tugged on the material of his shirt, not wanting to admit that he liked the feel of it. He stared at himself in the mirror, trying to reconcile the man he knew with what he was seeing in front of him at that very moment.

He missed wearing the Star Fleet uniform with his full captain's bars. But of course, Picard couldn't have Q with any kind of delusions that he had any authority on the ship, so he was sentenced to these, these…_civilian_ clothes.

He had to admit one thing though. Black looked good on him.

It was a button up, which was rather old school, but he discovered that he honestly liked it. They had tried to make him wear one of those jumpers but he had adamantly refused. They were flattering on no one, and he was not going to go around a star ship looking like he had no head on his shoulders…or common sense, as humans called it. Recalling twenty-first century Earth, he had brought forth some black jeans. They had been all the rage in the twenty and twenty-first centuries, and he was going to bring them back into style.

'Not to boast,' he thought to himself, 'But I look _damn_ good in these.'

He left the shirt un-tucked and ran a hand through his thick hair, tilting his head and admiring his reflection once more…and then sighed. Why bother? It wasn't as though he _had_ anyone to impress.

With those depressing thoughts, he turned away from his mirror and towards his cabin. There was no way that he could live like this. He could always make some…_minute_ changes. He twitched a finger towards the carpet and it became a pale-colored wooden floor. A flick towards the walls and they turned to cream colored stone. The bed changed into a low-lying solid, wooden bed with several thick layers of cloth over top of it to act as a mattress and a soft fur blanket covered the rest. He eyed the pillows for a moment and then shrugged. He could keep the pillows.

Q didn't have to sleep, but as long as he was here…when in Rome, as the humans said. He snapped his fingers, temporarily turning off his Q-like urges. Oh, they were still there, of course, but suppressed beneath layers of, though he was loathe to admit it, _human_ emotion.

The one thing he hadn't explained to Picard was that the Continuum was insisting that he come to a more full and complete understanding of the human species, as he seemed to be the only one in the Continuum who had any kind of curiosity for the species. He was, in a manner of speaking, their _only _umbilical cord between the two worlds.

He walked back towards the mirror, placing his hands on the edge of the dresser and staring himself down. Only one thought was in his head…

'Why me?'

* * *

He walked down the corridor of the thirtieth deck, wondering where the arboretum was. He could have lifted his fingers and snapped himself there in an instant, but he was complying with the captain's wishes…something that he was now deeply regretting.

What he would give to just…maybe he could do it just this once. He paused, lifting his left hand, fingers poised. Suddenly, a firm grip on his arm caused him to turn. It was Lieutenant Commander Data, who happened to be the one, um, "person", that he was able to tolerate.

"Data…old friend, how _are_ you? Still trying to become human?"

The android gave him a blank stare. "Yes, I am. However, I must insist that you lower your hand. The captain has told me that I am to keep an eye on you and make sure that you do not use your powers to move about the ship."

At that comment, he glared at the lieutenant-commander, unnerved by the fact that Picard knew him so well. He, albeit reluctantly, dropped his hand, feeling completely frustrated at his lack of control over his situation. It was a strange feeling, not being in control. He swallowed nervously, shooting a glance back at Data, not quite believing what he was about to do. It was something he hadn't had to do since…well, he couldn't remember.

"My dear Data…you wouldn't happen to know where the…the arboretum is, would you?"

Data nodded, and then gladly supplied him the information. After doing so, he gave Q a look. "Would you like me to accompany you there, as I am to keep an eye on you anyway? It would make for an easier way for me to keep track of you."

Q rolled his eyes, not wanting to be seen chaperoned, and quickly came up with a solution. "How's this…I go to the arboretum and you follow at a distance that is discreet enough that no one else would be aware that that's what you are doing, does that work for you?"

The android nodded. "That is acceptable."

The omnipotent being rolled his shoulders and began walking. "Good, so long as you don't blow a fuse while you're near me, we'll be fine."

The last part of his sentence was muttered under his breath, as he was perturbed by the fact that the captain had _assumed_ that he would need a chaperone…and the fact that the captain had been right irked him to no end. There were definitely going to be some problems there, but Q resigned himself to the fact that it wouldn't matter what he did, the captain and crew would never fully trust him. Except for perhaps Data, as he wasn't encumbered by such ridiculous things as emotion.

He found himself in the arboretum, but quickly discovered that it wasn't what he was looking for. He had been looking for nature, but the sight of the walls and the ceiling made him feel…enclosed. Even more so, as he had a belief nature should never be enclosed. Not that he would _tell_ anyone that, of course, for fear of being accused of having any semblance of humanity, but it was there.

He let out a deep sigh, watching in despair as several, what were they called? Oh yes, botanists, took care of some watering on a few ferns. No, this would not do.

He left the arboretum feeling more depressed than before. This was an odd feeling, depression.

Q let his thoughts wander about as his body wandered about, not really caring where he was going. Why was he only feeling depression? Everything that he had felt so far as actual feelings had been depression, anxiety, exasperation, and sadness. These were all negative emotions. Where were the feelings of joy and happiness that humans experienced? He knew that they were capable of them, but they seemed to escape him. He'd had similar feelings as a member of the Continuum, but they were self-centered and self-serving. Human emotions seemed to stem from actions for others…something that he didn't quite understand.

He looked up to find himself at 10-Forward, the doors in front of him. With a deep sigh, he made his way inside, bypassing the bar altogether this time, and heading towards the table that he'd occupied before.

A group of three science officers sat there, deep in conversation. They looked up at him as he approached, and he glared down at them. One of the officer's eyes went wide with recognition at who he was. He had been on the bridge when Q had arrived. The officer quickly sat up, grabbing the other officers' arms, and pulled them towards a different table.

With a sigh of relief, Q sank down into the chair that he'd occupied his previous time there.

He glanced around the room, observing how the humans interacted with one another. They were intriguing, he couldn't deny that…but they were also confusing at times. Their body language conflicted with what they said constantly, and it threw him. No wonder Data had a hard time trying to be more human. He was hard-wired for the truth, but the human species lied all the time. Their' mouths would say one thing, but their bodies would say another.

He pondered over this, not noticing the several appreciative glances sent his way by several of the female crew members who were unaware of who he was. Completely oblivious to the stares that he was receiving, he contemplated on their actions, trying to understand.

At some level, he _did_ understand. He did it all the time. He would say one thing, but mean something completely different…but he did it out of self-preservation. Humans weren't like that, now were they? He was well aware of the fact that he was probably the most selfish being in existence, always trying to find something in it for him, but humans, though at times somewhat selfish, had some sort of moral center that eluded him.

_That_ was what the Continuum wanted him to investigate. That was what eluded them the most. Oh sure, there were quite a few Q who were _responsible_, but having moral centers? No, that didn't exist there. They might have had them before being part of the Continuum, but that had been lost almost immediately once being inducted.

There wasn't a belief of either right or wrong for the members of the Continuum, just things that were advantageous to individuals at different times.

He sighed, yet _again_, and sank a bit deeper into his seat. He was getting sick and tired of sighing all of the time…and suddenly he felt a strange urge from around his abdomen.

Q glanced down at himself, unsure of what was going on, having a vague memory from being human before. He looked up and saw Guinan heading over to his table, a plate in her hands, and he rolled his eyes. Good merciful Zeus, he couldn't deal with anything more at that moment. He was having enough problems as it was.

She placed the plate in front of him. "I heard your stomach growling from across the room. Thought that you might enjoy this."

He gave her a skeptic look, not quite entirely sure of what she was talking about, but not willing to admit ignorance. He raised an eyebrow.

"Like you'd _care_?"

Guinan shook her head, and he realized that she meant for him to eat it. It was strange…it had been so long since he'd actually eaten because his body _needed _him to. He reached for the two long sticks and used them deftly, lifting one of the small rolls, dipping it in the small bowl that was on the plate, and then placed it in his mouth.

He eyes practically rolled up in his head at the utter pleasure of the tastes and textures that rolled onto his tongue and down his throat to his stomach. Good lord, that tasted amazing. He let himself take another one, this time letting it sit on his tongue, letting the taste saturate his senses, being the only thing that he was aware of, blissfully in ignorance of the fact that Guinan was watching him with wry amusment.

He finally chewed the rest of it and swallowed. How it tasted! He had forgotten what it was like to truly taste things! He'd had wine the other evening, but had ignored the flavor, not fully having his Q side turned off, more focused on having something to do with his hands.

As he tucked into the meal, he looked up at Guinan and, with food still in his mouth, he began to talk.

"So…what is this? I admit, albeit _begrudgingly_, that this is enjoyable. So , what is it?"

He ignored her look of slight amusement as he quickly polished off the plate, leaving not a single grain of rice left.

She finally smiled. "It's called sushi. It's fresh from Earth, actually. None of that crappy synthol stuff. I thought it was something that you might like. It's almost raw, but it seems to have a kick to it that people either love or hate, though it's not necessarily good for you. A lot like you, actually."

Q glared up at her, picking up a napkin that had appeared out of nowhere and wiped his mouth. He was not amused at her glib attitude, but as his mouth was still full, he couldn't yet retaliate with a stinging retort. He swallowed and made his last retort.

"Yes, it's true…anything can be good for you if taken in careful doses. Some people just don't know how to control themselves and make weak, impulsive decisions, heaping their own fate upon themselves whether they like it or not."

Guinan gave him a look, and he didn't even bother responding to it, finishing cleaning his lips. It was strange to have such a…satisfied feeling. But he was missing something. Oh yes, something to drink. That would work, but the question was, what should he have? A red wine, a light one, would be perfect to finish it off…at least, according to human standards. He lifted his hand, fingers poised, but a scathing look sent in his direction from Guinan actually had him shrinking back.

"Fine," he said, contempt in his voice at her audacity. "Have it your way. More work for you, anyway. Merlot."

She gave him a faint smile, as though pleased with him, and walked away headed towards the bar to get his drink for him. As she retrieved it, he saw the girl from before enter the room. Her attire was quite different from her Starfleet uniform, and it intrigued him. It was an expertly made black dress that hit her at just above her knees and it had very thin, almost string like straps that led to a scooped neckline. Simple high-strapped heels and a gold bracelet on her left wrist were her only accoutrements to the outfit.

What was her name? Oh right…Karen. He watched her as she sat down at the bar, crossing her legs and looking as though her world had collapsed around her. Oh, desperate women were so _interesting_ to talk to. They always spilled their guts and gave the greatest insight into human nature.

He uncrossed his own long legs and made his way across the room, his entire body moving with a predatorial-like fluidity and oozing confidence from every pore. Nearly every woman in the room noticed this, but yet again he was completely unaware of their appreciative glances and lingering gazes that drifted over his tall frame. He slid onto the stool just to the right of the woman, sliding his arm onto the bar area and just forward enough so that it entered her view and made her feel as though someone was there for her. That was what they always wanted, these types. A 'shoulder to cry on' he believed was the term.

"Hello…need some help, _mon cherie_?"

He let his tone sound as caring as possible, taking care to throw in the French. For some unknown reason, Earth women, particularly American ones, liked the sound of French terms.

Her head snapped up at his words and Q was startled to see a fiery anger in her eyes, snapping and crackling like a plasma storm. He knew that if she had been a Q, all of 10-Forward would have been ablaze at that very moment. The anger seemed to radiate off of her in waves, and though it was strange to admit it, he found it utterly and completely captivating. There was something else…that same feeling from before that he couldn't explain. It was…_some_thing.

"Don't. Call. Me. That."

Her words were clipped, but they were meant to sting. He leaned back slightly, understanding how human females were always saying that they needed space.

Q studied her for a moment, watching as she dropped her head back down, now staring at the drink that Guinan had placed in front of her. Guinan then placed Q's Merlot in front of him. He took it, carefully balancing it between his first and third finger of his left hand, idly twirling it and looking at Karen's profile, thinking.

"So…" Her body twitched, but she did not turn to look at him like before. "…what do you _want_ to be called?"

"Karen." That was all she said, her voice tense with emotion. He could tell that she was going to say nothing more; her jaw was tensed beyond measure.

Her hair slipped slightly from the braid that held her hair back, and she blew out a breath, attempting to blow it from her face, but failed. On an instinct that he didn't know he had, he reached out with his right hand, gently pulling the stray strands back and tucking them behind her ear, wondering at the odd feeling that shot through him as his fingertips brushed against the faintly warm and soft skin of her neck. He noticed her expression change slightly as skin touched skin, and he felt it again. That feeling that he couldn't place.

He dropped his hand, and finally spoke. "Okay then. Karen it is."

An expression of confusion flitted across her features for a nanosecond, before turning into one of casual indifference.

"Why are _you_ here? Looking for some more souls to torture?"

He grasped his right hand to his chest, acted as though he were in pain. "Oh, you _wound_ me! Such pointed and hurtful comments! I do not _torture_, nor do I believe in it. The truth is, I came here because I am…" He grit his teeth as he confessed. "…depressed as well. Yes, go ahead and laugh. The almighty Q is depressed. How utterly humorous!"

She gave him a sideways look, and he caught the movement of her head turning towards him out of the corner of his eye. There. There it was again.

This was starting to drive him mad, this unidentified feeling. It seemed to crawl across his skin, a frission against the senses. It was becoming an annoyance, and he didn't do well with annoyances. But at the same time, he was insatiably curious as to what was going on with him. He would never say it to the captain, but one particular quality of the Q happened to be the same with humans: their curiosity for the unknown. It was one of the reasons, after all, why he was being forced to stay on the ship. His superiors' _insatiable_ curiosity.

He glanced at her once more, this time holding her gaze. Karen did not back down. He inwardly smiled, impressed with how she was holding her own against him. Most normal humans would have crumpled by this point, yet she still hadn't backed down.

Her dress had a low collar and he watched as she unconsciously adjusted it higher, and he saw the faint outline of what was obviously a scar just underneath her collarbone. Hmmmm…there was a probably a story there.

Q took a careful sip of his wine, placing the glass back onto the bar. She gave his drink a pointed look. "May I?" He nodded.

She reached over with her left hand and gripped the fluted glass almost daintily between her thumb and third finger, slowly raising it, and then taking a deep drink. She just as daintily placed it back down onto the cold surface, and he watched with an appreciative glance as she slid it back over in front of him.

Karen watched him carefully as he seemed to gratefully take his drink back, and she tried to ignore the shudder that ran through her at his proximity. She hoped that he wouldn't ask her about their previous encounter, but at the same time that was all that she most desperately wanted. Please, just ask me, she silently pleaded. His unexpected gestures only moments earlier had confused her. They had almost been…gentle.

She nervously bit the inside of her lip, briefly remembering her less than amicable encounter with her boyfriend, Dan. They had been on a date when he'd suddenly got a call and had to leave. It was the fifth date in a row that had been cut short by his job. She was _not_ enjoying being second fiddle to his work. She had to be first in someone's life…and he wasn't doing it.

Q watched her carefully, observing how she bit her lip, and he suddenly had the urge to…do _some_thing. He wasn't sure what it was.

Ah, oh well. He turned to her once more, taking another drink from his glass.

"So…you approached me earlier the other day. Why?"

There was the Q that she'd heard about. Blunt, direct…and ostensibly rude. Karen grit her teeth, controlling herself so that she didn't snap, but he continued to prod at her with his smug look that seemed to say that he knew that she had no answer, that he'd caught her.

She was quiet for a moment, but then finally answered him, her words avoiding any direct and true answer.

"You were in my seat, alright?"

Q grinned, and she turned her eyes away. He was annoying…and irritating. And it was the last straw. Without a single parting shot, she slid from her stool and elegantly walked across the floor, heading towards the door as calmly as she could, trying not to let her nerves show.

Unbeknownst to her, Q's eyes followed her as she walked out the door.

He could tell that from a human standpoint that she was somewhat attractive, but there was something else involved.

He was intrigued. There was something..._some_thing there. As she walked, his eye was drawn to the line that she created that slid from her waist down her hip and along her legs to the heels of her shoes.

There was something about that line that was…oh, he couldn't think of the damn word! What in Euripides was it?! The word, the sensation, the _feeling_ that had been eluding him this entire time and was making him practically itch all over, making him want to claw at his skin until he tore the answer out from his very flesh. He knew that the answer was there. He just knew it! But it didn't come.

He heard himself sighing once more as he rotated himself to face the bar again and he inwardly groaned. This was getting ridiculous! Only a few hours being as human as he could get without getting rid of his Q powers, and he found himself acting as ridiculous as they did!

Guinan gave him a look from across the bar, a smirk appearing across her features. "Haven't seen anyone have it that bad in a long time."

Q glared up at her. "What on _earth_ are you talking about?"

She merely smiled, a mysterious look alighting in her eyes. "Don't worry…I have no doubt that you'll figure it out. Then again, this is _you_ we're talking about."

With that, she left him there looking even more confused than before. He turned his attention back to his drink, savoring the taste as it slipped across his tongue and down his throat. The flavor was a pleasant distraction from his confusing situation. And what bothered him even more was the fact that Guinan seemed to be aware of what he was feeling, and he was still in the dark.

There were too many questions…and he didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to reverse everything that had happened to him, but it was obvious that he had no say in the matter. If the Continuum found out…well, things wouldn't go very well. They wouldn't go well at all. His fingers automatically began to raise, but he stopped himself, realizing what he was about to do on instinct. Nope. No more of that.

He stood up from the stool and headed towards the door. How he would miss his dramatic exits…but maybe, just maybe, quietly slipping out in an anti-climactic fashion could be just the thing that he needed after a moment like the one he'd just had.

* * *

**Part 2/10**


	3. Quagmire

**Chapter 3- Quagmire**

* * *

He woke up in his bed…and then suddenly realized that something was wrong. He was Q! Why on earth was he sleeping? He didn't need sleep!

At that thought, his whole body bolted from the covers and he landed on the hard wooden floor next to it, where he was suddenly flooded with sense memory of long days inside the house, spending all day on the floor and never once having to worry about having to do anything important except for reading the newest book.

He sat on there for a moment, stunned by the memory that had just flashed through him. He hadn't thought about that in…in at least three thousand human years. It was a memory of when he'd still been "alive"…before he'd become a part of the Continuum and become Q.

He slowly stood up, brushing the inexistent dust off of his pants, his fingers absentmindedly brushing against the cotton fabric longer than was strictly necessary. It was strange to be having these kinds of reactions already. His body, with all of its human-like qualities, was reacting too readily to his situation. Why was his body acting like this? Why were his Q like qualities so easily suppressed by the human ones? Everything was coming at him too quickly.

He headed towards the mirror, needing to see his own face in order to get some perspective. He needed to _do_ something. Something to make him feel like Q again. He finally lifted his head, looking in the mirror…and he was surprised at what he saw. He wasn't who he normally was. Gone was the normal glib personality, and in its' place was something that he didn't recognize…seriousness. How? How had this happened to him?

Q shook his head, trying to shake off the feeling that he was missing something. It was like the feeling from before, when he'd been watching Karen...something that he knew what it was, but he just couldn't place it. Oh well.

Snapping his fingers, he was pleased to see a new outfit appear on his person. White shirt done in the Oxford style of twentieth and twenty-first century earth tucked into black dress pants from the same centuries. His dress shoes matched as well. He was missing something though…ah! Another snap and a black jacket now covered him as well, matching the pants that he wore. He extended the mirror to full-length and smiled. Dressed to kill…or at least maim.

He walked out of his cabin, and then paused. Turning to the wall, he touched the interactive panel.

"Computer, locate a place on the Enterprise where they have what humans call ballroom dancing." "DECK 11, 'THE TURNTABLE'."

Q grinned…time to have some actual fun. Of course, it was limited human type fun, but he had been told by several human women in the past that he was quite good at dancing and he intended to take full advantage of his skills. He loved to mess with human's minds. Because they knew him to be arrogant and smug, tonight he would be humble and as gentlemanly as possible…_that_ would have them second-guessing themselves, and keep _him_ entertained.

* * *

As he stepped into the room, it was obvious that humans were blindly unobservant. No one took any notice of him…but of course they were used to seeing him in a Starfleet captain's uniform. The clothes that he wore now didn't fit into their pre-determined misconceptions about who he was.

However, he was pleased to see that everyone else was similarly dressed as he was. In, as humans called it, formal wear.

He grinned, settling his long and lean frame into a chair at one of the tables on the side. Propping one elbow on the edge of his chair, the other one hanging loose, he linked his fingers, giving a casual look around the room. He was rather amused by this pastime of humans, but he had to admit that it was one of their more classy and enjoyable ones. As he glanced around the room, he saw her. It was Karen, and she looked utterly elegant…and rather upset.

Using his powers, he zeroed in on the conversation she was having with an older gentleman.

"Please…Dan, I just want _this_! I don't want any of the other stuff! The baggage of rank and propriety and thinking about the future…all of that's just holding me back from being with you, do you _realize_ that? You're constantly being pulled away because of your job, and I need someone who will be with me in the now! Not in the sometime later…"

The man named Dan gave her a look that Q could only describe as being exasperated, with a touch of longing thrown in.

"Karen, mon cherie…I love you…but if we can't have a future together, I don't see this working out. I want children, a career, a family! When I proposed, I thought you were just taken by surprise, so I decided to give you time, but that's not what you need, is it?"

Looking slightly miserable, Karen shook her head in the negative.

"No, Dan. It's not."

The man let out a long sigh, running a hand through his short, blonde hair. He lifted his eyes to hers, and Q noted how humans could communicate without having to say a word. He could understand exactly what this man was trying to say to her. It was over.

Karen seemed to realize the same thing, and she gave in.

"I guess…I guess this is goodbye."

Dan gave an almost regretful nod, and lifted a hand to her shoulder, pulling her in for a hug, but she pulled away. For some reason, a feeling of…what was it called? Oh yes, happiness, flashed through Q in that moment, and he couldn't understand why. Why would he be happy about such an outcome? True, he thought human coupling was ridiculous and that it made no sense, but then his thoughts flitted back to what she had said. She cared about the 'now', the moment…things just happening and watching what happened because of them.

There was something there…but he just couldn't put his finger on it. It had something to do with what he'd felt before towards her, he knew that much, but this was beginning to turn ridiculous. Why the hell was this driving him so crazy?

He watched with more curiosity than normal, carefully observing her as she sank into a chair, her dress sliding around her. He found his eyes wandering along that line that he'd noticed before. The one that curved from her waist, down her hip and down her legs. The material of her dress clung to her just enough to hint at a…_pleasing_ form beneath. There it was…part of the feeling that had eluded him, but it wasn't all of it. There was something more to it, and it was just beyond his reach.

Before he realized what he was doing, he had risen from his chair in one fluid movement and headed towards to where she sat, all alone. His feet seemed to be acting on some sort of human type instinct, and it irked him to no end.

He now stood before her. He cleared his throat, and she looked up.

"What the hell do you want?"

Her voice was surly, and her eyes were accusing.

He placed his hands in his pockets, feeling somewhat awkward for no apparent reason. The words suddenly fell from his lips, completely unbidden, and he was at a loss as to where they had come from. Had he been in his non-human right mind, he never would have said them.

"I was wondering if you would like to dance, since it would seem that you've lost your dance partner."

Her eyes widened in shock, not believing what he had just asked her. She lifted her eyes and found equally shocked ones staring right back at her. It took her a moment to regroup and gather her wits about her before she could actually respond.

"Uh…yes, I'd…I'd love to…" Her voice was a bit hesitant.

He tentatively lifted his hand, feeling a bit ridiculous at the fact that he was having to follow human social graces. If he'd had it his way, he just would have grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out onto the dance floor whether she wanted to dance or not. Karen gave him a look, glancing between his eyes and his hand, as though trying to determine his sincerity.

After a beat, she took his proffered hand and let herself be led to the dance floor. He moved with a natural grace that spoke of his strength and he easily swept her into his arms, while she was still reeling from what was happening at that particular moment. Only a few minutes earlier she had come in with Lieutenant-Commander Daniel Thomson, the poster-boy for Starfleet, and now she was on the arm of an all-powerful being who was attempting to be somewhat human to fit in with the crew of the Enterprise, a crew that he had tormented more than once.

And though she was loathe to admit it out loud, he looked _good_.

Karen followed his lead easily, and was starting to feel her body become affected by his close proximity. A low heat seemed to radiate from him, and she had to physically stop herself from leaning into it.

She took a chance and looked up, glad to see that he was not looking at her, but over her shoulder. She took the moment to let her eyes linger and appreciate his lines. She had a thing for tall men, and he most certainly was that. She admired his profile for a moment, fascinated by the way his hair curled around his ear, and she wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers through the loose curls at the base of his neck.

Startled by her thoughts and the fact that she had started to unconsciously lean into him, she pulled back in a jerky movement, reminding herself that he wasn't human, but he compensated her awkward movement by twirling her out in an elegant step, and then gently pulling her back in.

"Thoughts wandering, my dear?"

Karen glared at him, vaguely noticing that his grip on her waist had drifted down slightly, and his hand was now resting on her hip, his right thumb running gently over her left hipbone in an almost caress. The motion was distracting, and she tried to ignore it, but it was becoming next to impossible as each swipe sent a brief spark through her. No, no, no…this could _not_ be happening. She was not becoming attracted to him. He was rude, arrogant, pompous, and…suave, classy, charming, and oh who was she kidding? Karen's body was making her well aware that she was attracted to him…_very_ attracted to him.

This was making no sense. She had just broken up with someone, and now she was having fuzzy feelings for someone else? Someone not even _human?_

Not that she would ever admit it to Q, or to anyone else for that matter, but she slowly realized that his arrogance was one of the things that was attracting her to him. He was always sure of himself, and he was _never_ wrong, simply because he was all-powerful and had lived for so long. That was what she craved for in a man…confidence. Surety. And Q had it in abundance.

Of course, he also had extreme rudeness in abundance, but to her his confidence was enough to balance out the negatives.

They continued to dance, and he continued to distract her. He brought her slightly closer towards his body, and his breath was brushing against her neck and ear. She bit the inside of her lip, trying not to react, but it was becoming harder and harder not to, and she let out a held in breath.

Q was finding himself in much of the same predicament, but he was utterly and thoroughly confused. What _was_ this reaction he was having? It was…_some_thing. He had adjusted the two of them so that he was closer to her physically, trying to pinpoint what it was that he was feeling, theorizing that it might have something to do with proximity. He let his hand drift slightly on her waist, moving further down. Whatever the feeling was, it was increasing as he felt her react to him, her breath brushing against his human skin.

He continued to waltz her around the room, and Karen noticed a few envious looks from across the room at the way he moved with such fluidity. Yes…she probably _did_ have the best dancer in the room on her arm.

The music died down, and the two of them slowed to a stop. She reluctantly pulled away from him, stopping for a moment and looking up at his face. She drew in a sharp breath at what she saw. It was…good lord, she'd never felt so naked before by just a look. His eyes seemed to be staring right through her, as though trying to figure out what she was thinking. Without a backward glance, she turned and left the room, leaving the all-powerful Q behind her.

Q stared after her, trying to understand what had just happened. She had looked at him, her face lightly flushed, some strands of hair escaping the up-do that her hair had been in, delicately framing her face and he had felt it hit him with full impact. It was the strongest that he'd felt the emotion. And he didn't know what it damn well was!

Whatever she had seen had made her bolt, and he felt…he felt…was that shame? He'd only felt it once before, when he'd been turned human as punishment from the Continuum. But now he was feeling it yet again, even though he still had his powers. Something was definitely wrong here.

He left the room, his presence seeming to sweep through it like a surge of pure energy, leaving an almost visible heat behind him even after he'd already passed through the doorway and into the hall. He was still Q, and he was going to make sure that people knew it. Whoever this woman was, she was messing with his head…and Guinan had seemed to know what was going on with him earlier, but he didn't want to go to her. Perhaps…yes. He would go to Counselor Troi. With that thought in mind, he changed direction, making his way to the nearest turbo lift. Oh, the limitations of being human.

He dreaded having to talk to Deanna Troi, but he had limited to no choice. He soon realized that he didn't know where her quarters were. He glanced towards the wall, feeling ridiculous because he was having to ask the computer, yet again, where something was. Why, oh why, did _he_ have to be the human liaison? Wait…_human_ liaison.

He quickly changed his mind about where he was going, touching his hand to the computer.

"Computer, tell me, where are Lieutenant-Commander Data's quarters?"

It took a moment, but he was soon given an answer and he stepped into the turbo lift, eager to talk to someone about what was going on with him. The android was the most unbiased of all of them, and he noticed human emotions and behavior better than most counselors did. He would be much easier to deal with, as well, because of the fact that he was the only one of the crew who didn't have a burning hatred towards him.

He stepped off of the turbo lift, walking down the corridor and stopping in front of the lieutenant-commander's quarters, pressing the button for entrance. Data's voice was calculated and measured.

"Come in."

Q walked into the android's quarters, glancing around briefly before seeing the person in question in the side room that held his office. He strode into the room in long, almost elegant strides, while his mind wandered, wondering where to start when talking to him.

Data looked up in surprise at him as he entered the room. "Q? How may I help you?"

The immortal being gave him a searching look, and then he began to pace. At first, Data watched him move back and forth, but soon discovered that the repetitive motion was rather…well, repetitive. He stopped moving his head back and forth, and instead decided to wait for Q to make the first move. If he remembered correctly, pacing, at least in the case of humanoids, meant that there was something on the person's mind, usually something of great importance.

Finally, Q came to a stop and turned his head towards the android, elegantly placing his hands behind his back. "I have…a question for you, android."

Data gave him a simple look, and nodded.

"I understand. Are you going to ask the question?"

The immortal gave him a look that Data interpreted as being exasperated. He then began to pace again, and Data soon realized that he would have to "move the conversation along", as the humans said, himself. He hesitated a moment, and then tilted his head as he spoke.

"All of your actions, so far, Q, have pointed towards the probability that you are in a quandary of sorts. Your pacing indicates either indecisiveness or confusion on a certain matter. If you have a question for me, as you said, then why not ask it?"

Q looked up at him, his jaw clenching for a moment and then unclenching. The android was too observant for his own good. But in this case, it should help him. He had to know what the hell was going on with him. He knew that if the situation went on any longer he would end up using his powers in a way that would attract the attention of the Continuum, and he could not afford to take the chance of being stuck as a human being permanently, no more second chances.

He sighed. "Fine. I was wondering…I've been having some certain…_emotions_ of a sort. I can't identify them, and I think that you might be able to help me."

Data nodded, absentmindedly rubbing Spot behind the ears as the feline jumped onto the desk in front of him.

"I see. However, I must question your judgment. It does not seem logical to come to me for a problem such as this as I have no emotions. Why not go to Counselor Troi?"

Q sighed. He'd hoped that little discrepancy wouldn't show, but the android was too observant, again, for his own good. He sighed again, rubbing a hand along his neck, realizing that he was actually collecting tension as a human would. That was his own fault for suppressing his powers so deeply. He saw the chair near the desk, and he pulled it out, easily sinking into it, crossing one leg over the other with a grace that was entirely his own.

He found it rather interesting, the differences between him and the android. But they also had so many similarities. Both of them lacked true emotions…or at least Q had when he was entirely himself. They were both extremely powerful in their own ways, had immense amounts of knowledge at their fingertips…and yet they were so apart from each other.

Data yearned to have emotions, to be human, but was unable to, whereas Q detested emotions and humanity but was forced to have both against his will. The android moved with very calculated moves, whereas Q, on the other hand, had an unnatural grace about his person that seemed to draw eyes to him wherever he went. He enjoyed it, and used to his advantage as often as he could, but he inwardly felt completely disjointed, as though he were stumbling about in a dark room with no lights.

He finally answered the question that had been lingering on the air for several silent moments.

"Unlike you, humans have emotions that get in the way of, how shall I say it…_unbiased_ judgments. Counselor Troi, along with the rest of the crew, has a certain…_dislike_ for me. You do not. And, since you are my "professor in the humanities", as I once called you, I need your professorial opinion on a certain…_some_thing that has been bothering me."

Data tilted his head in that certain way of his, and then watched in curiosity as Spot leapt from the table into Q's lap and began to purr.

The previously omnipotent being looked down at the orange ball of fur in his lap with a slightly disdainful eye.

"And this is…?"

Data quickly explained. "Spot is of the earth species _felis catus_, or more commonly known as the common house cat. Cats are a common type of pet among the human species, and they usually name them, as I have named this female of the species."

A look of amusement lit up Q's eyes, and he reached down and carefully put a hand on the small animal's back, and his eyebrow arched in further amusement as the female animal arched up into his touch and her vocalizations became more easily audible. He pressed just slightly firmer, and the animal stretched out, extending small claws from its appendages and digging them into his leg. He briefly noted the pain, realizing one of the drawbacks of being human.

He continued his methodic stroking and then began to explain his situation. "You see, I've been having this certain…_feeling_ of sorts when I've been around a particular human female, and I can't place the feeling. I'm not ignorant of human emotions, I fully understand them, I assure you…however, _this_ one eludes me for some unknown reason."

He continued to absentmindedly pet Spot, while Data seemed to process the words that Q had just spoken. It took him a few moments, but then he started asking him questions.

"Does it have you focusing on the more physical aspects of this female?"

His look of surprise answered Data's question, and he continued.

"Is it causing a physical reaction in the human form in which you now reside?"

Another surprised look and Data nodded. He continued to have an almost inquisitive look as he thought over Q's two nonverbal answers. Q wasn't exactly waiting patiently, but he found, to his surprise, that having the animal on his lap kneading his thigh with its paws was somewhat relaxing.

He let himself enjoy the company of the small beast as the android pontificated. It was taking a while, but soon Data looked up and gave Q an interesting look. If he were human, Q would have assumed that the look to be given him would have been a look of disdain, or confusion, but with Data he was unable to read him. He had no facial tics, no tell, nothing that would let Q know as to what was going on inside the android's positronic neural network that was called a brain.

"I believe," he began, carefully crafting his words in response to Q's answers. "That what you are feeling is called physical attraction."

The omnipotent being looked down towards the cat, drawing his fingers carefully along the spine of the small animal, and a pleasant rumbling came from its' throat. He had to think for a moment…and then he realized what Data had just said to him.

Q's eyes snapped up, his hand freezing mid-motion on the creature's back. _That's_ what was happening to him! It was actual, _real_, physical attraction. His human form was having a reaction to Karen, and was causing him to feel rather confused when he was around her. But the question was this…_why_ was he having such a visceral reaction to her?

Data noted Q's expression, and continued.

"This is not an uncommon occurrence in the human species. It is how they find a mate and propagate their species. It is also used for the basis of many human interactions and social engagements. Individuals are attracted to different aspects of other individuals and create aesthetic attachments to them."

He watched as the omnipotent being's face seemed to swirl with several emotions at once.

Q suddenly stood up, Spot falling from his lap to the floor, barely landing on her feet in time. She made a noise that indicated her displeasure at his action, and then began to try to convince him to sit back down by weaving in and out of his temporarily frozen legs, rubbing herself against him. He was completely unaware of this, and turned his eyes towards Data with an expression that any person, especially an android, would recognize in an instant.

Fear.

Inside Q's mind, one thing ran through it. _This isn't happening, I'm not human, this isn't happening, I'm not human, this isn't happening… _And so on, and so on. There is no probable way that this should be happening, he continued to think to himself.

He had suppressed his Q like urges, and yes, he was having human ones, but attraction should not be among them. No, no. He knew what physical attraction meant. It meant hormones…it meant not _human_ hormones, but those of a Q. Emotions could be changed to a certain species, as could his physical appearance…but not his genetic make-up. Q hormones were something _entirely_ different. They were incredibly strong and made human nymphomaniacs look like absolute prudes compared to what would be happening to him. There was a _reason_ why he tormented species across the galaxies…that was his outlet for those hormones. He put them into something _other_ than this…this…this disgusting urge.

He lived off of control…and if he let these hormones run their course, there would be _no_ control.

Q shook his head, trying to rein in the tidal wave of utter terror that he felt at the idea of having no control. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his now human-like nerves that were showing through. He rolled his head on his neck, took a few deep breaths.

Data watched with curiosity at the man in front of him, though that wasn't who he truly was. This was a reaction that he'd never seen before in an alien species…or in any species for that matter. For many species, the idea of physical attraction was a pleasant one, but Q seemed to be having an adverse reaction to the idea. Data wondered why, and briefly started as Spot had silently slid under his desk and hopped back up to his lap, purring and practically begging to be petted.

He absentmindedly ran a hand through his pet's fur, but was mentally distracted as he continued to observe Q's reaction.

Q realized that he was pacing, and quickly stopped. It wouldn't do any good to wear a hole through the ship's hull. He dropped his hand from his hair where he had been absentmindedly, and somewhat nervously, running his fingers through it. The android then looked up at him, his eyes almost seeming to spark with curiosity, though he knew that that wasn't the actual case.

Data had stopped petting his female feline companion, and Spot, realizing that she was no longer going to achieve any more attention, jumped back down and slid around the corner, slipping onto her soft pillow. She would simply have to wait for her master and the stranger to continue their odd and somewhat curious interactions. She liked the stranger very much. He had a nice warm lap and a wonderfully firm touch that felt quite pleasant. Whoever his mate was, they were very lucky.

The immortal being briefly looked down and noticed the feline slipping around the corner and curiously observed her as she settled down on her small, makeshift bed. Life seemed so simple for her…if only it were that simple for him.

He sank back down into the chair, letting out a deep sigh, briefly forgetting that Data was there.

"Q…I have to ask," Data started, and Q's head snapped up. "Are you possibly referring to Lieutenant Karen Shane?"

He said nothing, either not willing to reply or unable to. He let his eyes slowly come into contact with the android's, attempting to keep his gaze as neutral as possible, not wanting to betray anything in any possible physical way.

"Why would you think that?"

Data tilted his head in that particular way of his and then proceeded to tell him his reasoning.

"Well, I have noticed that you have interacted with her on three separate occasions. Once, when she approached you in 10-Forward, another time when you approached _her_ in 10-Forward, and then the most recent incident when you two danced at The Turntable, of which I am aware of as I am linked to the ship's security feed and have been using it monitor your movements. Since she is the only female on board this ship that I have seen you interact with in any way, I would assume that she is the person of whom you speak."

Q inwardly cursed the android for being so attentive…and then he remembered. Data was _supposed_ to be shadowing him. He was under the captain's orders to do so, and so that was exactly what he was doing. He leaned back in the chair, casting a resentful look towards the almost-human in front of him.

There was no use in hiding it. "Yes…she is the woman of whom I speak. An absolutely irritating one, at that…" This last part was muttered under his breath, but Data obviously heard it, as he then responded to the comment.

"If she is so irritating, then why do you spend time with her?"

Q opened his mouth to respond…and found no words. Now, _this_ was a first. Unable to answer so simple a question.

He wracked his brain for an answer, but nothing came to him immediately. He thought about all of his interactions with her, mulling over the incidents, wondering why the mere thoughts of them gave him such an odd feeling. It was as though their negative interactions were…_appealing_ to him in some sort of fashion.

At this thought, he let his body sink just a little bit deeper into the chair, carefully analyzing the feelings. It wasn't the conversation that was particularly stimulating, it was more her reaction. He realized that he _enjoyed_ the way her eyes flashed dangerously as he pushed her buttons or boxed her into a corner using his words. And he could tell from the way she spoke, that if she were provoked she would retaliate with biting words and slicing comments, not backing down, fighting him tooth and nail for a right to be in their conversation, though it would be more argument than anything else.

A smirk appeared on Q's somewhat appealing features. She _delighted_ in the opposition…as did he.

At this, he stood up to leave, but then Data spoke.

"Q, are you alright?"

The omnipotent being smiled.

"Yes, Data…I am _quite_ alright, as a matter of fact. You have helped me immeasurably. I owe you, yet again, a debt of gratitude for your words. You do have quite a way with them, my friend. So, rest assured, I will be just fine."

With that, he strode out of the lieutenant-commander's cabin, heading towards the lift. It was time to see how much of a rise he could get out of the female lieutenant. Things were about to get _very_ interesting on board the Enterprise. He was about to dive head first into a verbal joust with Lieutenant Karen Shane…and see how well she knew her battle ground. If he was right, she would be able to match him almost wit for wit.

Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

* * *

**Part 3/10**


	4. Quadrisyllables

**Chapter 4 - Quadrisyllables**

* * *

When Q had first approached her with his idea, she had been surprised and shocked, having only interacted with him on three separate occasions, but she had been intrigued by his idea: a game of words.

They started it…and the sparks flew.

It had now been two days of verbal jousting between Karen and Q since their incident on the dance floor. She was secretly finding the word-play quite a bit of fun, but she would never outwardly admit it to anyone. Just this morning they had thrown several well-placed insults at each other, and she had left the room in a huff at his last one. He'd called her a "bent-over-backwards rule-abiding Star Fleet cadet", which was about the worst insult you could throw at her.

She caught herself grinning as she walked down the corridor towards the holodeck. She barely noticed Deanna Troi calling her name as she walked by her. Her head finally snapped up as Deanna placed a hand on her arm.

"Lieutenant?"

The counselor's voice barely registered on her clouded mind, but the feeling of an impediment in her forward momentum did.

Karen stopped walking and looked up at the Counselor, wondering what she wanted. She liked Deanna, she always had. She was someone that anyone could get along with, but managed to make her opinions known without being the least bit rude. That was probably why she was a counselor anyway.

"Yes, Counselor?"

Deanna gave her a searching look, a soft smile, and then broke into a full-fledged grin.

"Alright, Karen, let's drop the formalities…who is he?"

She tried to feign ignorance of what the woman was talking about, but it was impossible. The Betazoid part of the counselor was informing her of Karen's true emotions, and Karen knew that she couldn't hide it from her…and secretly, she didn't want to. She was bursting to tell someone about what was happening. It was so different from any other type of relationship that she'd ever had, and it felt absolutely wonderful.

She followed Deanna into her quarters, and as soon as the door was closed she burst.

"He's just…amazing! He's the only person that I've ever met who's willing to match me. He takes me for me…you know?" Deanna nodded as she sat down in her chair, so she continued, pacing back and forth as she spoke, unable to sit down. "He actually _likes_ the fact that I'm sarcastic, somewhat insensitive, and that I like to argue! I've never met anyone who knows how to handle me like he does…it's-it's-it's amazing!"

The counselor just gave her a small smile and motioned for her to sit down on the couch opposite her. Finally, Karen sat down, her hands beginning to fidget as a substitute for her pacing, trying to let out all of her nervous energy which had seemingly come from nowhere.

"Karen," Deanna started, a grin on her face, "It sounds like you're happy."

The brunette nodded, placing her hands on her knees. "I am…good lord, am I happy."

The counselor continued to smile, and then got up and headed to the replicator. "Would you like something? I think this calls for a celebration." Karen nodded, and left it up to the counselor to choose for her. Deanna knew her preferences; she'd been going to her for over a year, now.

As Deanna came back with a chocolate mousse for Karen and a hot chocolate for herself, Karen found herself reminiscing briefly about the year that she'd spent in counseling. It had started with the accident on Brevior. She had been sent on a mission with three other people down to the planet because she could speak the language. She had been helping with some basic negotiations dealing with some of Star Fleet's trade laws, and there had been an attack of rebels on the capital. She shot five of them down before she'd been hit and nearly killed.

Her right hand instinctively brushed against the underside of her left collarbone. The scar was practically invisible to the naked eye, but she was still grateful for the high-necked uniform that kept it covered. It kept away unwanted questions.

Deanna saw the unconscious motion and placed her mug onto the table that sat between them. She gave Karen a knowing look, and Karen's eyes dropped to her treat. Deanna inwardly sighed. She honestly didn't know what to do with Karen…especially when it came to that subject. It was one that the lieutenant had carefully avoided. She'd talked about it at the beginning, but now it never came up…mostly due to Karen's insistence that she was fine.

"Karen…do you think that he might be someone you can, possibly, open up to?"

Her green eyes lifted to the counselor's own brown ones, and Deanna could see a small light of hope. It was faint, but it was there.

"I…I think so. Yes." But then she paused. A few seconds passed, and then she continued. "He forces me to confront myself in different ways. I think that he might…might help me with this. You know I haven't been comfortable talking about it, but you and I both know that I _need_ to talk about it. I need to deal with it. It's a part of me whether or not I like it, and he can help me learn how to face it head on, how to _deal_ with it."

As she spoke, she stood up from her chair, leaving her unfinished chocolate mousse on the table next to Deanna's unfinished drink. She wrung her hands as though they were towels and she was trying to get every last drop of water out of them.

Deanna stood, placing a hand over top of Karen's.

"Karen…are you sure?"

She nodded, her eyes hardening at the question, as though angry at the fact that Deanna would dare question her on something as important as her own well-being. Deanna inwardly smiled at her friend's reaction. Just as she expected her to react. Now she would go through with it.

At that she patted her hand on the girl's hands and motioned for her to sit down once more. She relented, and they both sat down to finish their chocolate treats. Deanna watched in some amusement as Karen dug wholeheartedly into her dish. It was a rare sight to see the woman actually enjoying something. She was always so tightly wound, so serious, and this time with her was allowing her to see the other side of her. The indulgent side.

Deanna placed her now empty mug back onto the table and leaned back in her chair, giving the young woman a grin.

"So…do I have to ask?"

Karen looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

The counselor shook her head in exasperation.

"Who is he, of course! Who's this mysterious man that you've finally met your match in?"

Karen tensed up at the question, and Deanna noticed the way her body seemed to tighten all at once. Should she tell her? If anyone was going to be understanding, it _would_ be Deanna. She took a deep breath, letting her body relax. She could do this. She could tell her.

"Well…you've met him before," she said carefully, trying not to mislead her, but at the same time trying to set him up in a positive light. "He's tall, he's handsome…he has hazel eyes. He's a wonderful dancer, has a _severely _sarcastic sense of humor, beautiful hands…"

Her voice drifted slightly as she let herself mentally admire his form.

"He's smart…well, more than just smart. He's brilliant, actually…"

Karen's voice drifted again, and Deanna tried not to laugh at the expression that was on the young woman's face…but at the same time, she didn't want to laugh. She'd seen that expression before. It was one of complete and utter adoration. She was sensing something...but she couldn't place it.

"Well…?" she said, trying to prompt her to say more about him.

"Well…what else do you want to know?"

Deanna threw her hands up in exasperation. "Oh, I don't know, maybe his name?!"

Karen gave her a small, secretive smile.

"Oh, _that_. Well, if I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone. And I mean anyone! No matter what you think of him, even if you think that he could be dangerous, or messing with my heart, or trying to trick me. Can you promise me that?"

Suddenly, Deanna's eyes went wide with understanding. No…no, it couldn't be possible. But who else fit that particular description? And why else would she be asking her such particular questions?

"Are you…are you with Q?"

Her tone was almost accusatory, and instead of dropping her head in embarrassment, Karen stood from her chair, lifting her jaw in defiance. No matter what Deanna said, she was not going to stop her relationship with the one person…_being_…who understood her and actually _liked_ her because of her lack of social skills.

Deanna, on the other hand, was reeling. Karen's actions as she stood from the chair only confirmed her guess, and she tried to take it all in. And then she was hit with a barrage of emotions all at once. Defiance, protectiveness, caring, compassion, and…could it be? Yes, it was…love. It was so strong that the counselor almost cried out at the severity of it. It was cutting, sharp, and so intense that she had to close her eyes for a moment, trying to cut it out, and finally managed to.

She lifted her eyes to Karen's and gave her a self-deprecating smile.

"You really love him, don't you?"

Karen merely nodded, and Deanna stood, bringing her hands to the young woman's shoulders.

"Then, I guess…good luck. I think he needs the love, but I must warn you-" She cut off the protest that started to come from her patient's lips. "I need to say this. I must warn you…he is used to being selfish. If any part of him isn't, it is very deeply hidden…and it will be very hard to bring that out in him, if not impossible. I just…I don't want to see your heart broken, alright?"

Karen nodded once more.

"I know, Deanna. Trust me, I know. But…I think I've already seen part of his selfless side. He can be good. I just know it."

With that, she gave the counselor a brief hug and then slid out of the cabin, heading back on her intended path to the holodeck.

* * *

Karen was exhausted as she walked off of the holodeck, a towel around her neck catching the sweat running off her scalp. She had run a workout program that included a five mile run, the last mile on a fast setting. As she terminated the program at the pad, she heard a whisper in her ear.

"Fantastical opposition…"

With those two words, the voice was gone. She grinned as she pulled the towel from around her neck and began to wipe the sweat from her brow and neck. It seemed as though Q had taken her up on her challenge that she'd given him this morning. She'd told him that she liked to try limiting herself to a certain number of syllables per word for a day, and she'd challenged him to four. Of course, filler words were allowed, such as 'and', 'or', 'to', and 'the'.

She smiled and whipped the towel back around her neck and headed down the corridor, wondering what words to hit him with. Maybe something that would rile him up. Something like…oh, she'd come up with something good.

After a long hot shower, she felt a breeze in her room…which let her know that he was listening. She spoke into the air, knowing that he would hear her.

"Predatory navigation…"

She grinned. Those were the two words that she felt described him. For a moment, she thought she heard a low chuckle, but she ignored it. Q was probably just playing around a bit with her. Not that she minded, of course, but she needed to get dressed.

* * *

Q was enjoying this. Two days of nothing but throwing words back and forth, like the human game of tennis, except with words. It was exhilarating, and though he would never say it out loud, he was enjoying it immensely. Karen was on par with him, and he liked the challenge that was her.

She had prompted him this morning to try to limit himself to a certain number of syllables, but he decided, instead, to make it a private game just between the two of them.

He had served, and she had volleyed back. Now it was his turn, yet again, and he wracked his brain…oh, it was easy to come up with four syllables for a word as he knew every language in existence, but limiting it to English was so much more demanding. Especially as he was trying to use words that would specifically describe her. Now, what would make her raise her hackles and want to retaliate against him?

He carefully thought…ah, yes. He sent out another whisper. "Illiterate Lilliputian…"

He felt her anger at his words and he grinned. He couldn't wait for her next words. He hadn't been able to resist the literary reference. He knew that she was somewhat sensitive about her height and that she was a consummate reader, and he couldn't resist the chance to jab at both in just two words.

He waited a moment and was surprised by how quickly she retaliated.

"Predictable co-dependent!"

Oooh, she was good! She had thrown that barb just right…just where it hurt, too. He prided himself on being unpredictable and independent. It seems that she was catching onto his little game.

He sighed, leaning into the pillows on his bed, where he'd been laying since that morning, only getting up a few times to go to the replicator and ask for sushi. I wasn't the same as the kind that Guinan served him, but it was good, nonetheless. He was still getting used to having human-like urges…including going to the bathroom.

He thought for a moment, wondering whether or not he would strike back at Karen's biting words. No, he could wait. In the meantime, he could…well, that was the question. What _could_ he do? He mulled it over for a moment, and then smiled to himself as he snapped his fingers. A book appeared in his hands, one that he hadn't read before. _Kingdom of the Grail_, by Judith Tarr. It had been published in the early 21st century on Earth, and he remembered reading the back of the book when he'd briefly been on Earth during that time.

Q started reading it, and let himself take his time. It would have to take up some time in order for him to truly enjoy it. As he began to read it, he smiled to himself. He wondered how long it would take for Karen to realize that it was missing from her cabin.

* * *

Karen hadn't heard back from Q since she'd let loose her "predictable co-dependent", so she decided to make herself comfortable. She moved towards the bookshelf in her room, on the far wall, and wondered which one she would read. It had been a long time since she'd read her book that was based off of the song of Roland, an ancient French epic poem about Arthurian legend.

She brushed her fingers along the spines of her books, letting her eyes lovingly caress each title. But there was a gap… Q!

"Q! Give it back!"

* * *

It had been several hours since he'd returned her book, and he had spent it sleeping. It was odd to do, but he enjoyed the easy way to fill up the time. He let himself lay there for a while longer, enjoying the feeling of not having to do anything, while at the same time wondering what words to speak next.

He rolled and tossed the thought back and forth in his mind, wondering what else could get her riled up…or something else. Aha! That was it!

He sent a small breeze to her cabin, letting her know that he was there. "Incandescent ciliary…"

Karen was reading, but she heard the words, and she knew that he was waiting for a response. And then it hit her what he had just said. Incandescent ciliary. Incandescent meaning shining, or relating to beautiful, and ciliary being a part of the eye. Did he just say that she had beautiful eyes?

She blushed at the idea, and thought of a way that she could respond. Her lips quirked up into a semi-smile as she spoke, and she couldn't help but inwardly laugh, hoping that he would take the comment in the right way.

Q was waiting for a response, and then he heard the words, "Fascinating calligraphic."

Then he realized what she was saying…and _he_ almost blushed. She was saying that she liked his hands. He glanced down at his hands, wondering what she liked about them. He had come up with this form after seeing a particular person on earth during the twentieth century. He had been an "actor" as they called them, and he'd found that he'd liked the combination of stature and bearing, and that people tended to look up to you more the taller that you were, figuratively _and_ literally.

Well, he felt that it was time for their little game to end. It had been fun, but he was on the verge of acting too much like a ridiculous human male trying to attract the attention of a woman. He was not desperate, and besides…she was already attracted to him. And he knew it.

With that in mind, he stood up from his bed, changing into twenty-first century jeans, along with a twenty-first century button-up shirt in dark blue. She would appreciate it, he was sure. He had noticed that she had a tendency towards that particular time period, so he would indulge her. Besides, they were quite comfortable. He glanced in the mirror, running a hand through his hair. Then he dropped his hand, looking at it once more, giving a cursory glance to his nails.

_She thinks I have beautiful hands_, was the thought in his mind as he left his cabin.

* * *

**Part 4/10**


End file.
